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sleekervae · 1 year

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The Neighbour [4.1]

Masterlist

A/N: Alright people. A couple of you gave me a kick in the pants and luckily it was enough to light a fire under me and push this next instalment out for ya'll! Nothing too major plot wise happens here, but brothers are being brothers and Remington and Eva are still adorable. Enjoy!

Warnings: some mentions of familial trauma, some light smut

The rain picked up hard that evening. Eva had settled in to the guest bedroom as well as she could expect: her clothes were hung up in a moth-ball scented closet, her old books laid out on the side table, and she sat up in bed with her laptop open. That was never an oddity.

The fact that it was completely empty was...

Eva's first dinner back with her family went as well as could be expected. Her father had ordered Indian cuisine from the same little restaurant around the corner from their house, and it was convenient because they delivered. However, no matter how delicious she remembered the tandoori being, Eva couldn't shake the rippling anxiety threatening to bubble over from within.

It pained her to admit it, especially because her father had picked it off so well, but Eva felt like a stranger in her own home. And for the life of her, she couldn't shake this feeling. The freshly painted walls bore down over her, the old pictures on the walls mocked her presence. There was hardly anything to commemorate her or her siblings being a big, happy family. Has our house always felt so empty? she wondered.

And the simple answer was no, because it didn't feel so empty when it was the three kids, her father and her mother living under one roof. A family of five was going to be chaotic, to say the least. However, after her mother left Eva could pinpoint just like a dart in a cork board that she began to realize how distant the Kuznetsov family was from each other. Her father was always away teaching long college lectures, leaving the kids to fend for themselves. And even when he was home, he'd have them distracted with some extra curriculars so they wouldn't bother him. Magda was a social butterfly in her teen years and was out almost every night, while Greg would toil away in the study and play video games on hours with his online friends. And of course, one could expect to find a young Eva locked up in her room, losing herself in her own imagination.

After dinner, Eva excused herself to freshen up. Of course, she couldn't help but stop at her old bedroom; pushing the door open and immediately being hit with the familiar scent of old glue intermingled with baby powder. The room was still unfinished, hence there were a couple boxes from IKEA sitting in the corner and a dripping can of paint on a tarp. Her old bed was gone and in its place was the cradle set up for a toddler's bed. Arleth, the niece Eva had met maybe twice, would be staying in here when she came to visit her grandfather.

Perhaps what knicked at Eva's heart the most was the old bookshelf in the corner, once packed with the spines of some of the greatest American and Europeans novels she could scrounge up in old book stores. Now in their place were some small stuffed animals, and a photo of Magda, Arleth, and Magda's baby daddy boyfriend. It was a polaroid from the boardwalk at Pike Place, and Eva swore they used to have a family portrait just like that.

Eva walked out immediately, coming to rest against the door she'd just slammed behind her. She inhaled sharply, blinking back hot tears as the realization settled in that she had been practically erased from existence in this house.

But an even tougher question lay before her: did her family wipe her out, or did she do that herself?

Because like it or not, her father was right again in that Eva was unhappy here so she forged ahead to find somewhere that did. And she was successful, but at what cost did she have to pay?

"Eva?" her train of thought broke and her eyes snapped to Greg. He stood at the foot of the stairs, having just come up, and his usually blank or jovial expression was replaced with concern, "You okay?"

"Yeah," she nodded swiftly, " -- Just wanted to see the renovations,"

Greg nodded awkwardly, knowing fully well just what his sister had been thinking, "Eva, we didn't --"

"Where are my books?"

"The old ones?"

"Yeah!"

"They're in my room," he explained, "Dad wanted to put them in the attic but it gets so freakin' damp up there, I worried they might get moldy or something,"

Eva began to relax, "Oh. You kept them?"

"Of course! I figured you'd probably want to take them with you if you --" Greg's tongue slipped before he could stop himself. He inhaled sharply, "When you came back,"

Eva's eyes then averted to the ground, a weighted guilt beginning to gnaw in her gut. She couldn't really blame Greg, his point was valid no matter how much it hurt to hear aloud.

"Thanks," she whimpered softly.

Greg's focus switched between his own bedroom door, than the stairwell, then his door again. Without a word, he disappeared inside, and Eva decided for a moment that he'd either gone to get said books, or he was turning in for the night on their half-wilted conversation. However, Greg reappeared thirty seconds later with a blue plastic tube. He eyed her curiously.

"You wanna' smoke?"

Five minutes later, the younger Kuznetsov siblings sat on their back porch, watching the rain beat down in the suburban Bitter Lake area. The potent, somewhat musty odour of sizzling Mary Jane floated subtly through the thick smell of rain. Eva and Greg were safely tucked away from the rain under the overhang, with the small gas fire pit roaring away to keep them warm. Their father was in his study, as per usual. Besides, he had enough common sense within him not to freak out over his adult children smoking weed.

"So, on a scale of one to ten, how much does Magda really hate me?" she asked, "Ten being falcon-punch level,"

Greg scoffed, "She doesn't hate you, Eva. She just misses you,"

"She's got a funny way of showing it," Eva grumbled.

"Did you miss us?" he asked.

"Of course I did!"

"So how come we never heard from you?"

Eva eyed him warily, "Hey, I kept in contact with you! Especially after all this covid shit, we were talking every day!"

Greg simpered, "Yeah, until this rock band boyfriend of yours swept you off your feet, and then where were you...? Does he even know about us?"

"Of course he does," she replied, "He wanted to come out with me,"

"So, why didn't he?"

"... Because I told him not to,"

"Because you're ashamed of us, right?"

"No! Don't be an idiot!" she scolded, "But I mean -- come on, Greg! Look around! Our situation doesn't exactly scream meet-the-parents!"

"No look, I get it. I do," he nodded, "It just would've been nice to meet the guy who's turned my tiny-hearted cynic sister into a love-sick kitty cat, is all. I would've bought him some champagne,"

Eva chuckled quietly, "I feel like you and him would get along really well -- especially now,"

"Why now?"

"Because you're so laid back -- and that's weird for you," she reached over and put her hand over his forehead, "Are you feeling well? You can taste and smell everything just fine?" she teased.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Eva," he swatted her hand away with a laugh, "It's weird; it's like I moved back in with Dad, watched my entire scheduled life come crumbling down, had a bit of a breakdown, but I guess I just realized that life's too short to be running around with a rocket up your ass. Life moves by so fast, and before I know it I'm gonna' be thirty and my ass is gonna start to sag and I'll be applying for early bird specials..."

"At thirty?" Eva questioned.

Greg shrugged, "Well, I already feel like I'm sixty, so..."

Eva swatted his arm, taking a drag from her slowly burning joint, "I get what you mean, though. Life's too short, I still have so many thing I want to do before I'm thirty. And then I have thing I'll want to do before I turn forty, and I want to do them with the most incredible people. And not incredible like super smart, either, just wonderful people who also want what's best for me,"

Greg nodded, "And that's why you left Seattle, because you didn't feel that we wanted what's best for you?"

"I know you do, just like I want the same for you," she said, "But finding out what I wanted in my life -- I wasn't gonna find that here. Everything tied to this place just drags me back to a time in our lives that I'd much rather forget,"

"But, don't you think drawing on our less-than-stellar childhood would help make you a better writer?" he asked.

"It does, and it has," she replied, "But it doesn't make it easier to face the facts that our mother didn't want to be a mom to us and just left with no rhyme or reason,"

Greg popped a brow, "Yeah, our mother wasn't fulfilled in her life here so she went out to seek it in other places and other people. Sounds kind of familiar, doesn't it?"

He gave her the classic judgmental-sibling-side-eye that Eva always hated. But she grumbled under her breath, fucker.

"Okay, I see your point. That's very fair," Eva admitted, "But still, I'm not tied to a husband and kids who rely on me. Even if I have kids one day, I'd never do something so irrational and selfish,"

"Do you even know why she left?" he asked.

"I take it you do?"

"I don't," he shook his head, "That's the thing that drives me crazy: we don't actually know why she left,"

"She felt unfulfilled in her marriage, isn't that enough?" she asked.

"Then get a divorce, but don't just cut your kids off," Greg huffed, shaking his head whilst he took a drag, "To this day, I'll never understand how she could just do that to us..."

Eva looked out to the heavy rain before them. If it wasn't so cold out, she could reckon it was the same as the rains that would occasionally bless LA. Her mind wandered back to her life there, and of course she wondered about Remington. Was he okay? Was he taking care of himself? Were he and Pluto okay together?

It was selfish of her to have these thoughts, especially given her and Greg's conversation. However she had to admit that he was right; just like her mom, Eva sought out a safety and security that she wasn't getting here, and she loved that she could run to Remington as soon as she could go back.

However, there was then the always fleeting thought of what would she do when he had to leave, because pandemic be damned, the time would be upon quicker than she could realize. And what would she do, should she become unhappy with his travelling? Would she fall into the same depression she had here? Would she decide to pack up and leave for something better? And if she did, was the grass truly greener on the other side?

Eva recognized how lucky she was to find a greener patch in Remington, however she was scared for him too. She didn't want to repeat her mom's patterns; and what terrified her most was that she already had and hadn't even realized it.

"You guys drive me crazy," she admitted, "But I would never just cut you off. But you're right, I am just like Mom. And I also love Remington, and I don't want to do that to him if I find myself in that place again,"

"Have you ever talked to him about it? Like -- he knows about why we're so messed up, right?"

Immediately, her brain refocused to an old conversation she and Remington had over the summer, and she felt her face began to heat up at the circumstance.

"Yeah, we've talked about it once or twice..."

It was a rare night when California was blessed with rain; a warm summer storm that battered against the windows and fed the dreadfully dry crops and trees. It was the perfect mood setting; warm rain to compliment a warm and tense evening.

The pitter patter of rain was complimented with the echo of heavy breathing, soft exhales and whimpers reflecting off of steaming flesh. She was hot, she could feel her own perspiration and pleasure permeate through the bedsheet. But all Eva could concentrate on was Remington, his weight holding her down so deliciously, forcing her nipples to rub against the sheets beneath her, wriggling as calloused fingers traced her skin and soft lips feathered across her nape.

His right hand rested at the top of her head, fingers threading softly through her hair while his left hand gripped her own tightly. His gentle exhales echoed loudly in her ears, amplified with adrenaline and sensuality. Pair this with the fact that he was still inside of her, all Eva could focus on was the softness interwoven with the carnal lust taking over her.

"You're okay?" he asked hoarsely. She nodded slowly, her cerulean eyes peaking through narrow slits for a the blurred silhouette of his forearm.

"You know the answer," she moaned, her voice just an octave above a whisper.

He chuckled against her neck, "I'm just being courteous," he continued to leave soft caresses and kisses across her flesh, burning and wet and oh, so sweet.

Eva began to smile, "Can we do it like this again?" she asked.

"Anytime, beautiful," Remington replied, bearing a sleepy grin of his own, "Anything you want, I'll give it you,"

A renewed thought crossed Eva's mind; it was a question she often kept to herself, knowing how insecure Remington could be sometimes. However she knew he'd always promise honesty, and her lips began to move before she could decide further.

"Why did you want me?" she asked. The gentle kisses stopped suddenly, the grip on her hand tightening.

Remington peered over at her profile, the sharpness in her features reflecting the subtle glow of his lamp, "Why are you asking me now?"

"I don't know," she shrugged listlessly, "I just figured... if we hadn't have met the way that we did, would you ever have given me the chance," her lust was replaced with an eerie discomfort, her skin now burning with the question of her own vulnerability, "Besides, you don't really seem like you'd be interested in someone like me... so why me?"

"Someone like you? What does that mean?" he asked.

"Ordinary. Plain. Not very exciting at all, really," she answered.

Remington rested his head back against the nape of her neck, his gaze averted to the drawn shades across his window. He could hear the rain beating down, ringing in his ears and displacing the buzzing silence.

"You don't think your life is exciting?" he asked.

She shook her head, "I think it's more pathetic, than anything,"

"My life isn't all that great, either," he told her, "The house, the money, doesn't mean shit if I don't have a purpose, or someone genuine to share it with. Even when you found out I was on your vinyl, you never treated me any differently. You weren't asking about Remington Leith the Rockstar; you asked about Remington Kropp, the dorky kid with multi-coloured shoelaces,"

Eva simpered at that and he continued, "This whole year has been so fucked up, but it doesn't feel so bad with you. I feel ordinary, and I love that. Is it so crazy to believe that you could easily become one of the most important people in my life? I don't think there's anything plain about that,"

"... I just don't want to disappoint you," she admitted, "Because you're already very important to me. I've never felt the way I feel with anyone else,"

"What way is that?" he asked.

"Safe," she replied meekly, "I couldn't have asked these questions with others, I always have to keep my guard up. Because at the end of the day, people always want something from me,"

He nudged her softly with the tip of his nose, prodding at the rim of her ear, "Then... let me be a safe space for you. All I ever want for you is to be comfortable here, because my life can be pretty chaotic,"

"I think I can live with that," she replied.

"And besides," he then nibbled at her ear, and her shoulder twitched up, "You're safe with me here. I usually have a handle on what I'm doing in bed," he smirked coyly.

"And you're so humble," she groaned back.

His smirk stayed plastered on as Remington kissed down her neck, "Do you feel safe, now?" moving down to her shoulder, "Or now?" Eva squirmed, her insides fluttered as he was growing hard inside of her, "Eva?"

She gasped as he thrusted gently, "Yes!" she cried, her back curled beneath his chest, "That's good!"

"You," his warm breath fanned over her ear "How do you feel?" he started his cycle again; biting her ear, kissing her neck and shoulder, thrusting as a snail's pace.

"Wonderful," she replied, "You make me feel so amazing, Rem," her eyes slipped shut as he body was enveloped by the electrifying sensations, but she could picture that shit-eating smirk on his lips as he spoke once more before he picked up his pacing.

"That's my good girl..."

Greg could see her train of thought wandered elsewhere, though he became annoyed as he waved a hang in front of her face, "Hello? Are you listening to me?"

Eva snapped out of it quickly, "Y-Yeah! Yeah, I'm listening,"

Greg began to laugh, "You know Eva, Dad always used to say you were like a doe growing up. You remember?"

"Yeah, I remember,"

"Because at the first sign of danger in anything, you were the first to run off," he explained, "I remember they made Magda and I take you with us to the amusement park and you got so upset because we all wanted to ride the Atmosphere Launch and you were terrified,"

"I remember that, too," Eva scoffed, "I also remember how you guys made fun of me for that days afterwards,"

"Well we were twelve and ten, and you were seven. What did you expect from us?"

"Silly me expecting some compassion from my tween siblings," she sighed.

Greg chuckled to himself, his demeanour shifting from concern to teasing, "Oh please, I have plenty of compassion for you. Like compassion that you have to endure another round of mid-covid airport protocols and I fucking don't," he smirked.

"Not until you come and visit me in California," she teased back.

"Is that an invitation?"

"Maybe it is,"

"And I'd get to meet your rock star boyfriend and show him all the embarrassing pictures of you on my phone?"

"What pictures?"

"Well we took a few at the amusement park," he grinned coyly.

Eva rolled her eyes, "I hate you," and she put the joint back between her lips.

"I love you too, baby sis," he chuckled, taking his own puff, "Hey, how's the cat?"

"Pluto? He's nuts," she rubbed at her eye sleepily, "Rem is taking care of him,"

"And are we worried for Remington or Pluto?"

She eyed him knowingly, "Who do you think?"

He laughed again, muttering to himself, "Fucking demon cat,"

A clanging bang rattled through the house, prompting Remington to jump from the bed and rush downstairs. A rippling fear was that it was a burglar, though his rational side told him it was only Pluto being a menace.

Sure enough, the pale tabby cat was standing on the ledge of the countertop, unbothered to the drying rack with utensils scattered across the floor. He only stared curiously as Remington rushed in, shaking his head at the mess.

"God dammit, Pluto!" he started to clean up the utensils. Pluto continued to sit and lick his paws.

Eva wasn't kidding when she warned about how much of a handful her cat could be; he supposed that he had settled down around Eva. Being all alone in a strange house was bound to rile him up a little. This was the third thing he'd knocked over today; first it was the pillows on the couch, then his notebook from the coffee table. Remington wondered if Pluto had been such a handful when he went to stay with Andrew.

Much to his chagrin, Emerson came shuffling out of nowhere, probably from their makeshift living room studio. He wore a pair of velvet joggers, new merchandise from their upcoming line, and a worn beret over his head. He scratched lazily at his bare chest as he stared at the mess.

"What happened?" he asked.

Remington glared at him quizzically, "Pluto happened, that's all," he nodded towards the cat.

Emerson tutted, reaching out to scratch behind Pluto's ears, "That's the third time today. You think he misses Eva?"

"Probably the only one here who misses her more than I do," Remington huffed.

"Aw, it's okay, she'll be back before you know it," Emerson assured.

"Thanks, bro,"

"... I was talking to the cat, Rem,"

Remington narrowed his eyes, "Of course you were," he put the soiled utensils back into the dishwasher, glaring down at the cat, "Maybe we should walk him?"

Emerson popped a brow, "You can walk a cat?"

"Why not? Pepper gets tired after a good walk, why shouldn't cats?" he replied.

"If you can figure out a way to get a harness on this menace machine, all props to you," the youngest brother trudged past and went straight for the fridge, sticking his head and his hips jutting out as he searched for something to eat, "You talk to Eva?"

"After she landed. She said she'd call me after dinner," Remington sighed, "You think I should just call her?"

"She said she'd call, so she'll call," Emerson replied, "She's probably just settling back in with the family, trying to figure out who's gonna line up to give mom a kidney,"

They made their way into the living room and plopped down on the sofa -- of course Remington had Pluto tucked under his arm. Pluto quickly squirmed out and hopped onto the top of the sofa, settling in for another nap. Remington stared up at the ceiling, a gorgeous, ethereal painting mimicking the likes of Michelangelo and Raphael; all Emerson's touch, of course.

"You think she's okay?" he asked.

Emerson looked to his brother, then down to his constantly shaking knee, "I think she'd say so if she wasn't," he replied, "... Are you okay?"

"Yeah," though Remington's bouncing knee said otherwise.

Emerson glared at his brother, a knowing twinkle in his eye, "You're thinking about us leaving again, aren't you?"

Remington switched his gaze from the cup-stained coffee table to his little brother, "What makes you --"

"C'mon, you don't think I know you by now? Every time you've been on edge like this, it's always because you're nervous about leaving Eva for tour. Well, you're not leaving her,"

"I know,"

"You should just think of this as a little exercise -- for what it'll be like when we do go," Emerson assured, "I've never seen you like this before, man. Not even with Marcy,"

Remington sighed quietly. Before Eva, Remington swore that Marcy was truly the love of his life. He would do everything that he could for her, even while he was abroad. In the end, that didn't seem to be enough for her. He'd been so distracted with the band; the chaos, the fighting; for a time he reckoned he probably wouldn't ever speak to his brothers again. And just as they figured out their shit, Marcy had slipped through his fingers and walked out of his life.

"I didn't appreciate Marcy, that's why I guess," he shrugged.

Emerson and Sebastian wouldn't lie if asked whether they were sad to see her go. As much as Emerson loved his brother, he always figured Remington could do better than Marcy. There was something about her he found particularly grating on the nerves; be it her self-centred personality or the suffocating perfume she always wore. He figured Remington hadn't caught on because he had been so in love with her. Nevertheless, Eva being in Remington's life was truly a breath of fresh air for them all, so Emerson understood where Remington was coming from. Nevertheless, Remington was also full of shit.

"You did everything you could for that girl, the fact that she wasn't willing to compromise for you wasn't your fault," he told him, "Eva fucking loves you, nobody here needs to convince you of that,"

"I know," Remington nodded, "I just get nervous sometimes,"

"And you have every right to be," Emerson agreed, "But Eva isn't Marcy. Eva is kind, she's smart, and she makes hella better coffee than you ever will. She'll also follow you to the ends of the Earth if you asked her,"

Remington's curiosity peaked, "You think she'd like being on tour?" he asked.

Emerson smirked, "You're kidding, right?"

"I'm not talking about the sight seeing part, I know she'll love that. I'm talking about the hours waiting and the cramped bus and the fucking smell --"

"And Eva's not a little spoilt princess. She lives for the experience, that's what makes her such a great writer. The both of you," he reached over and squeezed his shoulder.

Remington began to smile. As much as Emerson could be a pain in the ass, when he was right he was right. He didn't have the drive to write a song about his previous girlfriends the way he had for Eva, he had so much love and trust for her. And after all, she trusted him with Pluto, so what doubt could there be?

"You're too smart for your own good," he simpered.

"I know, I do everything better than you," Emerson countered. Remington reached over and thumped the side of his head, "Ow! Watch the temple!"

Remington's laugh echoed through the room, just as his phone suddenly began to ring. Of course he leapt at it the moment the first sound went off, and his smile became wider when he saw the FaceTime call from Eva.

"Hello, beautiful!" he cried out happily as he face appeared. She looked to be curled up on in a deck chair, dressed in a black t-shirt that was all too familiar to him.

"Hi sweetheart!" her beaming face always lifted his spirits, "You have to watch what you say, we're being monitored," she panned the camera towards another man sitting in a similar deck chair, a joint between his lips and dressed in a form-fitting pair of flannel pajamas. He looked at the screen curiously.

Remington registered this was Eva's older brother, and he kept the coy smile on his face as he greeted him, "What's up?"

"Nothing much," Greg shifted the deckchair over just as Eva pulled the camera back to her focus. Greg however reached over and took the phone from her.

"Hey! Greg!"

"Relax, would ya?" the screen shook and was muffled by the scuffle, alas Greg won out as he came back into focus. The joint was still pursed between his lips, "So, you must be the great Remington I've heard all about?"

"I suppose --"

"I'm his brother," Emerson suddenly butted into the frame, "How's it going, man? I'm Emerson,"

Remington simpered, relenting, "This is my little brother,"

Greg's eyes furrowed as he caught a glimpse of the ceiling above them, "What's up with your ceiling?"

"Oh, this?" Remington panned up, "This is our heaven's gate: at home edition,"

Greg's eyes went wide, "Damn! That is fucking beautiful! Is that all hand painted or was it a print?"

"A little bit of both," Emerson answered, "She's a local artist that does these high renaissance look-alikes. Cool, right?"

"Absolutely! Eva, you should've led with the ceiling!" he mimicked a scolding. Remington could hear Eva's unamused groan, and he laughed as she took the phone back, much to Greg's chagrin.

"Hey!"

"You'll forgive my brother, his attention to detail goes into hyper focus when he's high," she explained, trying not to laugh as Greg tried to take the phone back.

"Eva, c'mon! I have to give him the brother talk!" he whined, "And I'm not high!"

"It's ten at night!" she argued back, "And hell yeah, you are!"

"So?"

Emerson butted in again, "Is this the classic 'hurt my little sister and I'll beat your ass' brother talk? Don't sweat it, I've already threatened him for you," he grinned.

"Emerson!" Remington elbowed him.

"Well, I did," Emerson then took the phone, "Hi Eva!"

Eva giggled merrily, "Hi Emerson," she narrowed her eyes, "Where's your shirt?"

"I'm at my house, I'll do as I please," he grinned back. Greg then slid into the frame beside her, much to Eva's annoyance as he pushed against her in the chair.

"Greg, c'mon!"

"I wanna see!" he whined, laying his eyes on Emerson then. He popped a brow at the shaggy-haired drummer, "Where's his shirt?"

"Oh, for God sakes," Remington snatched the phone back, jumping off the couch and running for the stairs, "I'm indisposing myself!"

"Hey! No fair!" Emerson called after him.

Eva laughed on the other end, "'Indisposing' isn't a word, Rem,"

"Of course it is. I just used it in a sentence, didn't I?" he smirked back. He locked himself in his room, drawing the shades, and he threw himself on his bed.

"He's got you there, Eves," Greg pointed out.

"Thank you, Greg," Remington replied, "Is Eva being nice to you?"

"More or less," he nodded, still trying to butt into the frame, "She's been talking so highly of you, I wanted to see what all the fuss was about,"

"Damn, how much of a reputation do I have to live up to?" he asked.

"It's all been good," Eva assured, "What have you been up to?"

He shrugged simply, "Oh, you know. Working on some music, watching some TV, cleaning up after Pluto,"

Eva's smile immediately dropped from her face, "Oh, God. What did he do?"

"Nothing too bad," he assured, deciding it best not to worry her, "I think he just misses you,"

Greg grumbled from beside her, "The cat's a fucking demon,"

"He is not," Eva argued back, "Monsters and demons are two different things... kind of,"

Remington simpered, "He's been just fine. But we both miss you,"

Eva grinned back shyly, "I miss you, too," she sighed, "Guess it was pretty nice out today, yeah?"

"Of course. Why? What's it doing over there?" he asked.

Eva gave him a pointed glare before switching the camera view to the downpour assaulting her backyard. It was then Remington realized the staticky noise wasn't just bed interference, it was the severity of the rain cutting in.

"God damn!" he cried out, "What're you guys sitting outside for?"

"We can't smoke inside," Greg interjected.

"That's fair," and Eva switched the camera view back, "Is it nice being home, Eva?"

Eva licked her lips, pausing momentarily as she stared warily at Greg, "I suppose you could say that," she shrugged, "It'll be nicer when we get this hospital bullshit sorted out,"

"When do you go?" he asked.

"Tomorrow. They're gonna stick me up with more needles than a voodoo doll," she replied.

"Jesus Eva, it's only one needle," Greg said.

"And your point is?" she replied.

The corner of Greg's head popped into the side of the screen, "Remington, is she so dramatic over there? I hoped the sun would mellow her out a bit,"

"Oh, look who's talking," she rolled her eyes.

Remington chuckled, amused and relieved that he was comfortable with Eva's brother so quickly, "I wouldn't say she's the dramatic one," he replied.

"Really?" Greg snatched the phone again, "What did you guys do to her over there?"

"Greg," Eva drawled out in a whine.

Remington laughed again, "Greg, your sister is one of a kind. I don't think I'd be able to get through this pandemic bullshit if I hadn't of met her,"

Greg appeared amused, not noticing the shy smile or reddening cheeks on his sister, "Really?"

"Yeah. She makes everything great. Ever since we met, she's been perfect," he nodded, "I'm really lucky to have met her, you know?"

Greg nodded, then his face twisted into what Eva could only describe as playful disgust, "Ugh, gross," he have the phone back to Eva, "He's cute; you better keep him," he then got up and headed for the door.

"Are you leaving?" she asked.

"I'm gonna take a whiz!" and he disappeared into the house.

Eva rolled her eyes, "Great," her gaze locked with Remington again, she giggled nervously, "Sorry about that,"

"No, it's good. He loves you a lot, I can tell," Remington replied, "Do you think he likes me?"

She simpered, "He just told me to hang on to you, so yeah -- I think he likes you," she replied.

"You seem unsure," he noted.

"I've been unsure of him since I came home. He's been such a completely different person to when I left," she said, "It's been nice, actually -- like I can tell he cares. We've never had that before,"

"That's great, babe," he smiled, "Are you okay, though?"

"I guess so," she sighed, "Greg and my dad have been the only receptive ones. My sister's been a different story,"

Remington reflected on some of the brief times Eva mentioned her and her sister's strained relationship, "How bad?" he asked.

"As sick as it sounds, I'm glad you weren't here for it. She would've laid into you, too," she replied.

He puffed out his chest, "I'd like to have seen her try," he teased, "What about your mom?"

"Guess my avoidance streak ends tomorrow," she said, "Should be interesting,"

He nodded solemnly, "I'll have my phone on if you need to vent," he said.

"I appreciate that," she admired his visage in the dim glow of his bedroom lamp. His profile was sharp, his eyes dark but twinkling with that mischievous tenacity that she loved so much. And his hair was braided, or he at least attempted to braid it. Half of it was tied into a poor, messy pattern and tied with a black ribbon. He looked so silly and so handsome, embodying every reason as to why she fell in love with him.

"Did you braid your hair?" she asked curiously.

Remington's face reddened, his eyes darting to his messy braid, "Hell yeah," he swished it back and forth, "Pretty professional, right?"

"Oh, absolutely! Your best look yet!" she was surprised Greg hadn't made a comment, then again he was probably too tuned up to notice.

He chuckled bleakly, "I know, it looks way better when you do it," he said.

"Still pretty good for a first attempt," she assured, "I'll teach you how when I get back,"

"Oh, yes please," he nodded happily, peering closer into the camera, "Your hair's getting longer, Eva,"

She reached up to twist her fingers in the ends of her usually short locks. Her fingers pushed delicately to place some of the hair behind her hair, "Does it look okay?"

"Eva, you look beautiful regardless of whether you have long or short hair, that's the truth," he replied, "I'm curious though to see you with longer hair, though,"

Her shoulders bounced lightly as she chuckled, "I'll think about it," she decided. Her lips suddenly parted into a sleepy yawn, and needless to say, Remington was in awe.

"You tired, babe?"

"Just a little. How about you?"

"I'll probably hit it in a little bit," he looked to his clock, it was already 10:45, "What if we left the call on 'til we fall asleep?"

Her eyes lit up, despite the freezing whether and the fire pits meagre attempts, Eva felt warmer and warmer in that deck chair, "I would love that,"

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